


Memoirs of a Dowayne

by billyidolrules



Category: Kushiel's Legacy - Jacqueline Carey
Genre: Dahlia House, F/M, Nostalgia, Orchis House, Romance, The Night Court
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:23:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5498609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billyidolrules/pseuds/billyidolrules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A soon-to-be retired Dowayne reflects on her experiences and accomplishments, wondering if she should have chosen a different path. </p>
<p>This is my very first fanfic, so comments/suggestions/feedback absolutely welcome! I'm used to poetry workshop classes, so I promise I can take constructive criticism. ;-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jon_of_Narva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jon_of_Narva/gifts), [SweetHoney1085](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetHoney1085/gifts).



> Aurélie: French name meaning golden  
> Reynard: French name meaning bold, courageous, or sly fox

As my time as Dowayne comes to an end, I find myself reflecting on my accomplishments. This is not all that surprising given my Azzalese heritage. Well and so, even the House I represent, Dahlia, has some measure of pride. Pride and dignity are two shades of the same color, if you ask me. I can only hope I have served my adepts well in my tenure here. That they found Naamah’s blessing and grace within our walls. That we have prepared them for the lives they will lead after making their marques.

Betimes I wonder if I’ve done everything I could, that the sacrifices I made were worthwhile. Time and again my thoughts return to Reynard. What would my life be like had I succumbed to his pleadings? It is never given to us to know what might have been, but I wonder all the same.

We first met at Cereus House during a Midwinter Masque those many years ago. So careless he seemed! Easy to smile, unruly blonde curls framing his rounded face. But when he turned to meet my gaze, I could see the intensity behind the mirth. I blushed, although I couldn’t say why. He had neither spoken to me, nor done anything untoward.

He sauntered over to wear I stood, and I nearly lost my grip on the stick to which my mask was mounted. I was trying to move it to the side for an unobstructed view of his costume. 

“Reynard.” He said, and took my hand to bring it to his lips with a wicked grin.

“Aurélie.” I replied, raising my chin slightly. I didn’t want him to think simply because I blushed at his gaze that I was some delicate flower of Alyssum House.

He laughed. “Well, of the two of us, I think I’m the one who’s golden.” It’s true, my parents named me golden. I’m sure it was some sweet token of their affection as their only child, but my silky-straight brown hair only made it comical.

“Unless you refer to your intentions, in which case I believe golden is no true description.”

“Oh ho! She pricks me with her tongue!” He clasped his hands above his heart, feigning an injury. We both grinned, then, realizing we had met each other’s match in wit. 

“Reynard! Come sing us a song!” Called a female adept from Balm House across the courtyard.

He winked at me as he turned and walked away. “And what price will you pay for my services, Anais?” He jested, of course. No contracts are made for the Longest Night. All the same, I felt as though the beam from a lighthouse had passed me by. His mirth and flirtatious designs were no longer aimed at me, and I found myself surprisingly disappointed.

Later that night, after the Sun Prince had taken the hand of the Winter Queen and the revels were winding down, he found me in the garden pondering the statue of Elua. 

“So somber and pensive? Surely the Longest Night is cause for celebration!”

I smirked and turned to face him. “To be sure. Just as I’m sure you have celebrated many times over already.” 

“Is that a dash of jealousy?” His eyes twinkled as if this pleased him greatly. “Alas, no. I was about to return to my House. May I walk you back to yours? Dahlia is not so far from Orchis.”

I was not surprised to find he had guessed my House; no more than I was to hear he was from Orchis. How could he belong to any other House with such easy laughter and sauntering grace? Our walk up the hill of Mont Nuit was filled with quiet conversation. I discovered he had been fostered at Balm House until Orchis bought his marque, which is now three quarters complete. Apparently many men and women find his joyful charms irresistible. I can’t fault them for it.

We talked about our families, our training, and other trivial things, and then we arrived at Dahlia House. 

“Thank you for your company, Reynard. I wish you continued success and prosperity at Orchis House.” I turned to walk through the gates.

He caught my hand.

“May I call upon you?” Nearly all trace of mirth had left his face. He suddenly seemed so vulnerable; his eyes searching my face for a response. I suppressed a flutter of excitement and pulled my hand away.

“You know very well that you may not, until our marques are made. You would break our oaths for a casual dalliance?”

“Who said anything about casual?” His grin had returned. He closed the distance between us swiftly and before I realized he had kissed my lips, he was walking away.

“I **will** see you again, Aurélie.” He said over his shoulder. 

I dreamed of that kiss for months. 


	2. Chapter 2

As the weeks and months passed, I continued making progress toward completing my marque, now halfway up my back. The Second of my house had taken an interest in my progress and called me to his chambers.

I entered and knelt abeyante near his couch.

“Please, sit.” He bid me rise and sit on an opposing couch. “Aurélie, how do you fare here?”

“Well, my lord. I have a steady stream of patrons, and they seem pleased with my service.”

“Indeed. We have had compliments about your services. We are proud to have you as an adept of Dahlia.” I flushed at the compliment, but said nothing. “As you know, the Dowayne ages, and may retire soon. I must start training my successor before this happens. It would not do to have a Dowayne without a Second, or rush the choosing.” I held my breath and tried not to show how eager I was for his next sentence.

“I would train you, Aurélie, to be my Second if you are interested in remaining at the House after your marque is made.”

I released my held breath and composed myself for a cool reply.

“Thank you, my lord. It is flattering that you should think of me when choosing a successor. In truth, I had not yet considered what path to take upon completion of my marque.” 

Lies. I had agonized over this choice many times in my chamber. Should I open a salon of my own and maintain exclusive clientele? Should I seek to marry and start a family? Should I stay within my House and cultivate a reputation that way? I didn’t know which to choose, and had not been able to come to a conclusion.

“May I have a day to consider this proposal?”

“Of course. Call on me should you have any questions on the matter. If you agree, we will begin your additional training immediately.”

We kissed farewell and I turned to exit his chambers.

My heart was beating so hard I couldn’t think clearly. In a daze, I made my way to my own chambers. I knew what I must do. Taking a small purse of coin, I headed to the stables to borrow a horse. I would go to the temple of Naamah in the City and ask for guidance.

It had been too long since I ventured outside of Mont Nuit for anything other than an assignation. The bustle of the streets was oddly comforting. Here and there, nobles browsed the street vendors, common folk carried out the chores of the day, and the noise of carriages and riders became a steady roar in the background. 

I stopped briefly at a cart with doves fluttering in their cages to choose an offering for Naamah. Hoping I had chosen a strong bird that would fly true, I mounted my horse and continued on my way.

It wasn’t long before I arrived at the temple. I dismounted and tied my horse to a post outside the temple doors. At the sound of my entrance, the priest near the back of the temple raised his head and walked toward me.

He gave me the kiss of greeting, warm and soft. Naamah’s grace surrounded him as if he glowed with it. 

“Be welcome, my child.”

“Thank you, my lord. I...well, I came seeking guidance.” 

Looking into my eyes, he sighed. “I see your question as plainly as if you had spoken it. Many come to us with the same question: what does Naamah wish of me?”

“Yes, exactly.” It was a relief to hear the words from someone else’s lips.

“Many paths are open to servants of Naamah, as you know. None better or worse than another.”

“None better or worse, no, but aren’t there some paths to which a person might be more suited?”

He smiled warmly at that. “Ah, you worry that you will not succeed if you choose the ‘wrong’ path; that you will somehow miss your calling.” He held up his hand before I could protest. “Child, Naamah accepts your love and devotion regardless of where you bestow your gifts. The point is that you should use these gifts and not squander them away.” He glanced at my hands, then. 

“You have brought an offering with you, yes? Come, you may ask Her yourself.” I followed him to the statue of Naamah, where he turned to face me. He gently laid his hands on mine.

“Open your heart to Naamah, my child and let her guide your choice.” He released my hands and stepped away to allow me to pray. 

“Naamah,” I all but whispered, “I’m not sure what you desire of me. I desperately need your guidance to make the right decision.” I released the dove I had been gently cradling in my hands, and looked skyward to watch it fly. It fluttered momentarily, confused, and then headed straight for the skylight. A swift and sure flight out of the temple and on its way to freedom. Surely, a good sign.

As I turned back to face the priest, I had no trouble matching his warm smile. I felt peaceful and at ease, although I received no magical answer to my plea. 

“May her mantle of grace wrap you in a gentle hug, and may you have peace whichever way you decide.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

As I rode back to Mont Nuit, it was easy not to think about my decision. The day was bright and clear, and slightly chilly; one last crisp spring day before summer’s heat began. I soaked in all the colors, smells, and sounds, and before I knew it, I was home.

I returned my mount to the stables and head toward my chamber. I was looking forward to a nice long bath after a day in the City. 

“Aurélie,” The timid voice came from behind me, and I felt a tug at my gown. 

“Yes, my sweet Étienne.” He was one of the young adepts being fostered at Dahlia until his 10th birthday. Such a beautiful boy, but so shy and unsure of himself. I felt certain Dahlia would sell his marque to another house when he came of age. Mayhap Alyssum, although he has the features for Camellia. 

I knelt so we would be of a height. 

“Jean said I oughtn’t play with ribbons. That only girls do that. But I like them! They’re pretty!” His green eyes welled with tears.

Hmm, maybe he’s bound for Eglantine. I cradled his face with the palm of one hand while he sniffled.

“Well you can tell Jean that some male adepts get paid to play with ribbons. There are Houses where knowing which ribbons are prettiest is reckoned a great skill! And you can tell him I said that.”

A smile crept over his face until he brightened.

“Thank you, Aurélie! Thank you!” He kissed my cheek and ran away, tears forgotten. Ah, the easy problems of children. It was in that moment I knew. 

Watching Étienne and the other children bloom into the young men and women they were born to be is what I was made for. I would take pride in their success and treat them as if they were my own children. 

I felt Naamah smiling upon my happy discovery and was giddy. My thoughts returned to a nice long bath. I would send word to the Second of my House after I was refreshed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life got in the way over the holidays! But here's the latest chapter.

After I informed the Second of my decision, I felt an immense sense of relief. As my training began, I realized just how much detail went in to all of the decisions made regarding the House. For example, the lighting used during a Showing based on the number of attendees required some thought. I had not considered it before. Too much light, and the viewers may be distracted by the environment. Not enough light, and viewers may not be able to see or appreciate the details. 

Most of my training involved simple observations. I spent time with the Second each time a patron arrived to observe the creation and signing of the contract and the presentation of adepts. So many subtleties I had taken for granted! How would I ever keep them all straight? 

“We have several patrons coming in this afternoon. I would especially like you to observe the first. He is a new patron who has moved to the City from Tiberium.” My Second explained “Although he is only half-D’Angeline, he was raised with enough knowledge to seek our House specifically. What do you suppose this tells us about him?”

“There are several possibilities, my lord.” He motioned for me to continue. “His family could have ties to our House, and he seeks to satisfy his curiosity. He could know a woman who exemplifies our motto ‘with dignity’ and seeks release since he is not or cannot be with her. Lastly, he has been counseled to seek our House by someone, and that person may have secondary motives.”

“Good. How would you recommend we choose adepts to present to him?”

“I would start with only women. He may not have been raised with a D’Angeline’s openness to coupling with men.”

“Ah, but what if that is why he has come to Terre D’Ange?”

“If that is true, he will have plenty of time to discover his own tastes and explore other Houses. His first assignation should not contain overmuch change, lest he be hesitant to return.”

“Excellent. You have a keen head for assessing patrons. Which reminds me, after this patron’s selection, you are dismissed to return to your own patrons. I know I am taking time away from your progress toward your marque.” 

“Think nothing of it, my lord. I enjoy learning from you.” 

“Even so, I’ll not have you neglect your patrons on my behalf. One of this afternoon’s patrons requested you by name. So there will be no need for a presentation. Less work for me.” The corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly.

A new patron requesting me specifically? I must thank whichever of my patrons recommended me. It is high praise, indeed.

When our Tiberian patron came in that afternoon, I was hard pressed to keep my curiosity in check. Thankfully, so was he. It appeared as though the idea of having anyone in the House at his disposal was intoxicating. Indeed, it is a sort of power to wield. I marked his reaction in case it indicated his tastes were better suited to another House.

“My lord, these are the adepts we have selected for your pleasure. Please, tell me which one pleases you most and we will begin.” We had decided upon a variety of coloring and heights to see which he chooses. 

The patron made no response. He looked at each adept briefly, almost timidly, before blurting out “Her!” as he pointed to Thérese. She has long, honey-colored hair, brown eyes and a soft round face. She rose, and joined the three of us, smiling at the patron.

“May Naamah’s blessing be upon you, sir. Thérese will lead you to her chambers.” She led the way, taking his arm as they left the room. 

After a few moments, the Second murmured “Your thoughts?”

“I am not sure I fully understand what please him, my lord. He allowed Thérese to take the lead, but that may be because he is new to the Night Court. Perhaps his second visit will be different.” He nodded as I continued. “I also cannot fathom the reason for his shyness. He is of decent means, and not a young lad to be wary of his first encounter with a woman.”

“This is of interest to me as well. As you say, the experience of selecting an adept could simply be new to him. Something tells me there is another reason. I will speak with Thérese after her assignation to ensure he was pleased with his visit.”

“With your leave, my lord, I will prepare for my own assignation.”

“Yes, of course.” I returned to my chambers to choose and gown and matching jewelry. New patrons are exciting. You have a fresh chance to cultivate a first impression. Your attitude, attire, and every action determine what they think of you.

I decided on a deep rose gown, with a modest but appealing square neckline. As usual, I pinned my hair up, tight and tucked in a twist. Part of the allure of dignity is when a patron feels they have been able to get past your outer façade. This makes the act of letting my hair down especially arousing for most of my patrons. 

As I entered the receiving room, my Dowayne was welcoming my new patron, his face blocked form my view. I knelt abeyante, my dress pooling around me. I heard my Dowayne murmuring her goodbyes and exiting the room. The silence in her wake was thrilling. A new patron, new expectations, and new experiences to be had.

“Aurélie.” Even without looking up, I could tell he was smiling. As I rose and met his gaze, I could feel the blood drain from my face.

“Reynard!” I gasped. He seemed to be enjoying my surprise far too much. “What are you doing here?!” 

“Well,” he replied calmly, “I have contracted your services. Or didn’t your Dowayne tell you?” I wanted to wipe the smug look from his face, and yet my heart was racing.

“Did you use a false name to make an appointment? If you used surreptitious means...I just can’t understand...”

“Aurélie.” His gaze held that gravity I had seen the night we met. “I have made my marque.”

He let that knowledge sit between us, his eyes never leaving mine. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind at the implications of those six words, not the least of which was how wonderful my name sounded on his lips. 

Once I gained a measure of composure, I reached out my hand to him. 

“My lord, I apologize for accusing you thusly. If you would still enjoy the services of Dahlia house, I would be honored. Would you like to escort me to my chambers?”

_Oh Naamah, please let him not see the slight shaking in my fingers. I must remain steadfast in my dignity._

Reynard raised his eyebrows at the change in my demeanor, but said nothing. A half-smile crept onto his face. He took my arm and tucked it into his elbow, covering my hand with his own.


	4. Chapter 4

Reynard placed his hand on the small of my back, allowing me to enter my chambers before him. The tea I had called for was sitting on my modest table, places set for two. I motioned for him to sit.

“How do you take your tea, my lord?” 

“Strong, not too sweet. Apparently that’s also how I take my women.” He smiled devilishly as he took the tea I poured for him. I could feel myself flush as I sat down and poured my own cup.

“Tell me, my lord. What brings you to Dahlia House?” It was a gamble. I needed to know how far he was willing to play this game. Would he answer honestly, or play me false? Am I just an assignation to him or is this an overture to something more?

I scooped a teaspoon of sugar into my tea and began to stir.

“Obviously I am familiar with the canon of your House, but I was intrigued by a young woman I met on The Longest Night.” His smile faltered. “I knew I had to find her; to get to know her.”  
“And here you are.” I opened my hands, motioning to the room. 

“Indeed. I also find myself in the startling position of being a patron. Whatever shall I do with this power? Shall I request that you disrobe and watch while I finish this soothing cup of tea?” He sipped it, as if to punctate his point.

“As my lord wishes.” I replied coolly. “Although, if debasement and humiliation is the flavor that excites your palette there are other Houses which may be more suitable.” 

He laughed genuinely, then. 

“Oh, Aurélie.” He set his cup down and took my hands in his, bidding me rise with him. The warmth of his hands was echoed by the warmth of desire spreading within me. My breath came quickly.

“Let us dispense with the pretense of cordiality.” He unpinned my hair with one hand, and cupped my cheek with the other. “There’s nothing coy or cordial about my desire for you.”

He pressed himself to me and all but devoured my mouth with his. 

 

As we kissed, if you could call it something so simple, I backed up toward the bed making sure his body remained pressed to mine. He deftly loosened the stays of my gown and slipped the sleeves off my shoulders. He drew away from me to take the measure of my body. My eyes never left his face. I knew what he saw; alabaster skin, flushed with pleasure, wide but proportionate hips. After a moment, I reached out to unbuckle his belt. Before I knew it, he was fully undressed, propped up over me as I sat and then laid on the bed. He started so simply, so gently; just trailing his fingertips along my sides, over my breasts, across my face. Was I a patron or an adept? I hardly knew. 

With all the confidence of a servant of Naamah, he kissed me deeply. Our tongues sparred, and I felt his lips curve in a slight smile as he realized how well matched we were. When two artists make love, it is truly a beautiful spectacle.

Then, he made to roll over and place me atop his lap. Unfortunately, we were too close to the edge of the bed and he nearly fell. I grabbed him to stop what he was doing, eyes wide, horrified that I might laugh. How rude of me. A moment later his face lit up, guffawing unabashedly at what nearly happened. I was undone. His mirth was infectious. I couldn’t help but laugh right along with him. He lowered himself and nuzzled my neck, still smiling. 

Carefully and gracefully, he rolled us the opposite direction until I straddled him, hair hanging down over both our faces. With his hands on my hips, I lowered myself onto his phallus, inch by glorious inch until we both drew in a soft breath. He guided my rocking hips to a steady rhythm, filling me more with each beat. Removing one hand from my hips, he toyed with my nipples and tested the heft of my breasts with contentment and wonder.

There was a pause in his movements when he seemed unable to think of more than one thing at a time. I felt please with myself that I could evoke such a reaction. Suddenly, as if compelled, he sat up and motioned for me to wrap my legs around his torso. With a measure of control I did not think he possessed, he slowly turned us together without dislodging himself from me. Gently he laid me back down on the bed, and with a mischievous look on his face, plunged himself into me even deeper. Upon seeing my eyes widen in surprise, I felt more than heard him chuckle deep in his chest. 

The remainder of our time together was immeasurable. I didn’t know whether hours were passing or mere minutes. Never have I surrendered myself so fully to a patron. Was he indeed a patron? I wondered...

I slept a dreamless sleep by his side that night and woke under his weight. His arm lay over my stomach and hung off the side of the bed. I could see just the finial of his marque from this angle. I longed to trace it with my fingers. Lest I jostle him awake by moving, I moved my head to kiss his shoulder, which was near to my face. 

His eyes opened, but he stayed slack against me. “Aurélie, I had the strangest dream. You were helpless to my charms and we made love all through the night.” He made a show of looking down at our naked bodies. “What a miracle, my dreams have manifested themselves!” 

Laughing, I turned under his arm to face him. “Well do not blink, for if I am made of dreams, I am sure to disappear under your waking gaze.”

His face darkened for a moment. “If only I could stay and live this dream over again. But alas, I must go.”

“I understand.” I kissed his forehead and rose from the bed, donning a robe. I tied my hair in a lover’s haste knot and gathered up his clothes. He rose reluctantly and I helped him dress.

What could I say to him? _He’s only a patron. Just treat him like any other patron._ I thought to myself...and yet.

As he finished dressing, I took breath to say something, I don’t know what, but he spoke first.

“I fear this has done nothing to assuage my perishing desire for you, Aurélie. I spoke truly when I said I dreamed of you.” He shook his head. “You have given me enough for 20 dreams.”

“Reynard....sir, you paid homage to Naamah many times over. She is pleased.”

“Homage to Naamah” He smirked. “Is that all?” I flushed. He saw right through me, but I remained silent on the matter. He placed a purse of coin in the gilt coffer on my window sill and turned back to face me.

“Well, I have only just begun to build my salon. I can’t say that I will have the means to visit you often.”

“Make me no promises, sir, lest you be false.” I tried to make my tone light, but I am not sure if I succeeded.

“Aurélie. Do not call me ‘sir.’ Have I not earned the right to hear my name from your lips?” He grinned devilishly then. “I _will_ be back to see you, my waking dream.”

He kissed my hand and left me to my maelstrom of feelings.


	5. Chapter 5

I found it difficult to concentrate on my duties over the next few days. My Second noticed my distracted behavior while we were meeting with a patron.

“Do you have any adepts who are specialists in multiple partners? I am considering contracting an adept to…entertain several guests at my residence.” He looked down his nose at me in particular. This patron was haughty, and trying to impress us with his requests. Still, it would not do to treat him with sarcasm or disrespect.

“My lord, all of our adepts are trained to the exacting levels of…” While my Second mollified the patron with his explanation, my thoughts wandered.

_What if Reynard made this request of me? Would he ask to share me with another? What if someone contracts me for an event and I run into Reynard? Would I be able to face him?_

“Ah! I see her blood rise at the thought of pleasing multiple patrons. Perhaps you would be a pretty addition to my home for the evening.” He looked at me as if he were a cat licking cream from a bowl. It sent a shiver down my spine. 

_Please don’t choose me._

My Second cleared his throat, sensing the tension in the room. 

“While Aurélie is indeed a skilled adept, taking this contract would be a bit of a conflict of interest, since you have not had a chance to choose from among all of the adepts. Our other adepts may get jealous that they were not offered the chance to please you, my lord.” He smiled conspiratorially. 

Having had his ego stroked, the patron turned his attention back to the contract at hand. When we had agreed upon the terms, he walked out with a satisfied strut. I idly wondered if his swagger was indicative of a deficiency somewhere else.

“Aurélie.” My Second’s voice took on a concerned note. “What troubles you? It is unlike you to get flustered by a patron so easily. Unless…it was not this patron that caused you to blush like a maiden.”

I blushed again, frustrated with myself for being so easy to gauge.

“I apologize, my lord. No, it was most definitely **not** that patron.” I smiled to think that he, of all people, would be attractive to me.

“Sometimes what you are not saying is more important than what you are saying. Do you catch my meaning, Aurélie?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Oh Aurélie.” He sounded disappointed, as only a paternal figure could. “A patron?”

“He’s only a patron!” I protested. “I promise you my lord I have not shown him any favoritism above any other patron. I would never betray my House that way.”

“It is not our House that concerns me, child. Have a care. I’d hate to see you hurt.”

“Thank you, my lord. I’ll be fine.” I already felt better having admitted it to someone.

The next day, the first of the letters arrived. It was on beautiful parchment, sealed with wax, and tied with a green satin ribbon. The Orchis adept who delivered it said nothing, but looked me over from top to bottom and gave me a wicked smirk before he turned and walked away.

I didn’t want to open it. Instead, I sat in the garden on a bench underneath the gazebo with the letter on my lap. What could it possibly say? Did I want to know? 

“What are you doing, Aurélie?” Here came Étienne, his face bright with none of the telltale signs of the stress he will surely face as an adult.

“Just sitting in the garden, my heart.” I beckoned for him to sit beside me. “Come, it’s quite lovely just to sit here and think.”

He sat beside me. “What’s this?” He pointed to the letter.

“A letter.”

“Of course it is!” He laughed. “But who is it from?”

“A lady doesn’t tell her private business, Étienne. It isn’t proper to ask her such things.”

“Oh. Well, why haven’t you opened it?”

“That’s...complicated.”

“Why? If they wrote you something, they meant for you to read it, didn’t they? Isn’t it rude not to answer a letter?”

“So wise for one so young!” I tousled his hair, which I knew would bother his delicate sensibilities. For a child of only eight years old, he was particular about his appearance. I wondered idly if he would become arrogant in his service to Naamah. Unfortunately for me, he also made a very good point.

I sighed. “Yes, my young Adonis. You are right. I should not insult the letter’s author with my silence. Now go on, that I may read the letter’s contents in peace. Shoo!”

He jumped off the bench and ran down the path to find his comrades.

I used the ribbon from the letter to tie my hair back, cracked the seal, and began to read.

_My waking dream,_

_Many times, I have wondered if I plagued your thoughts as you have mine these last few days, and especially the nights. Is that too bold? My friend Gerard believes so. He delivered to you this letter, and is my closest confidante. You need not worry. Only he knows of our time together, and can be trusted. And oh what time together it was! I could dream for months off that encounter alone, and yet it pales in comparison to that which I imagine would transpire upon our next meeting. And there will be a next meeting. I hate to think of you with other patrons. And yet, such a hypocrite am I! For the only way I may visit you again is by taking more patrons myself to buy a night with you. Were it not for your pride, I would devise a way to see you surreptitiously, but I would not do you the dishonor. You fare well at your House, and I would not have your name disparaged, as I hear it spoken with contentment in certain circles. I also hear rumors that you are being wooed by the Second of your House. Is this true?_

_Write to me if you can, and I will do all that I can to see you soon._

_Your dreamer,_

_Reynard nó Orchis ___

 

I sat in the garden for at least another hour, until I realized it had grown late and I had not yet eaten a midday meal. In my chambers, I put the letter in the drawer beside my bed. 

After I had fulfilled some of my Second-in-training responsibilities that afternoon, I penned him a hasty response. 

 

_Reynard,_

_Truly enough you have heard, although the wooing is not of an amorous nature. The only amorous affections I had received of late are from yourself, good sir. I know not what to make of them. We shall talk more about this and other subjects when next you visit._

_Your waking dream,_

_Aurélie_


	6. Chapter 6

Reynard and I exchanged several letters over the next few weeks. His were effusive with praise and romance, while mine were more reserved. I wasn’t sure exactly how to navigate a balance between allowing myself to be honest and not encouraging him beyond what is reasonable.

 

Finally, he contracted an assignation with me for some weeks hence. It filled me with excitement and dread. How could I continue this without losing my heart in the bargain? I poured every ounce of concentration I had into my training with the Second of my House and with my other patrons, which helped pass the time.

One of my regular patrons had contracted me for an assignation at his home, and I was glad to be outside of Night Court for a short while.

Dahlia House is of the belief that Naamah bestowed herself like a queen when she lay with her patrons. No patron was more demanding of this than François. For this assignation, I chose a deep blue gown with a neckline just an inch or two too low to be considered proper court attire. Lest it be mistaken for a simple mistake, I wore a gold and sapphire broach to draw attention to my décolletage. It was a patron gift from François. He was a minor lordling from the Trevalion clan, but he aspired to greater heights. Whatever woman he wed would no doubt have his ear when it came to politics, but he kept that side of himself private. And Naamah’s servants keep their patrons’ secrets.

I walked through the halls of the palace, nodding as I passed comtes and comtesses, lords and ladies. I liked to imagine what sorts of fetes and gatherings they might be headed toward. François’ apartment at the palace was modest, but very comfortable. His manservant greeted me and removed my ivory cloak, taking a moment to admire my…er…broach, I’m sure.

“Aurélie.” François crooned as he entered the foyer. “Thank you ever so much for coming.” He took both my hands and kissed them. 

“My lord Trevalion.” I inclined my head without curtseying. Normally this would be a sign of insubordination, but I knew the moment I set foot in his apartment the game was on.

“Please, sit.” He beckoned me to a table already set for dinner. He pushed my chair beneath me as I sat, and seated himself at the other end of the table. 

We maintained polite conversation throughout dinner about his estates, his search for a wife, and other trivialities. After dinner, we retired to his study where two cool glasses of wine awaited us.

“François, we are friends, are we not?”

“Of course, Aurélie!”

“Then you won’t hold me to decorum if I make myself more comfortable?” Without waiting for his acknowledgement, I removed the pins holding my hair in delicately twined curls atop my head. I noted the rise and fall of his chest as his breath quickened. 

“N-no. Not at all. Your home is my home, as always.” He quickly took another sip of wine.

“How do you fare in your attempt to secure a seat on the parliament?” 

“Not well, I’m afraid. Jean-Baptiste has marked me as the target of his vitriol, although he has no real cause to do so. He speaks ill of me to anyone who will listen, and he has the favor of Bryony House associates at court.”

“Remind me...who is Jean-Baptiste?” I know perfectly well who he is. This is a frequent complaint of François’, but I must maintain the appearance of being too important to remember such details. 

“Ah of course, forgive me for assuming. He is a descendant of Isidore D’Aiglemort, bent on restoring his family line, and therefore disparaging mine.”

“And have you considered courting Bryony yourself, or do you think it beyond salvation?” I looked up from my feigned disinterest to note his discomfort in trying to hide his arousal. 

“I considered taking a different route entirely.” He did not expand on this thought. So I looked up, eagerly.

“Oh? And what might that be?” I maintained eye contact boldly and took a large sip of wine.

“Well,” He began conspiratorially, “It’s well known that the players in the royal theatre have no cause to befriend him, after he ridiculed their performance of a popular Siolvalese play last spring. So it was my thought to patronize a future performance to court their favor, and make it well known that I have access to people he does not. It would gall him to know I have connections he can no longer make.”

“Well thought out, my lord! Once you have curried their favor, their network of alliances should prove easy enough to sway. As always, I admire your cleverness.” More discomfort, poor man. Although the idea pleased me just a bit.

“Aurélie would you accompany me to the study, there is somewhat I would show you.”

“Of course.” I rose, setting down my wine, and placed my hand in the crook of his elbow. He steered us down the hall and into his modest study, where a white box lay in contrast to the deep walnut table. 

“You are aware, I’m sure, that I respect your wit and charm. I have cause to doubt, however, that you fully understand the extent of my...admiration.” He opened the box to reveal a stunning necklace; a delicate chain with a large gold Dahlia and a diamond at its center. I did not have to feign amazement at such a gift.

“My lord, you flatter me with your gifts. You are a generous friend.” He removed the necklace from its box and made to put it around my neck, standing behind me rather closer than was necessary. I bent my head to the side to move my hair out of the way. I could feel his strained arousement pressing into my back. When he had clasped it closed, he leaned down to kiss my bare shoulder and his warm breath sent a shiver down my spine. 

“I do not wish to be your...friend.” He whispered into the curve of my neck. 

I turned to face him, tracing the necklace with my fingers. “Show me.”

His hand trailed down my back and came to rest at the base of my spine. He suddenly pressed me even closer to him and I let out a small gasp. He began to show me just what kind of relationship he envisioned by kissing my cheek, throat, and tops of my breasts, until I was like clay in his hands; languid and content. 

I bade him step back by pressing lightly on his chest. He looked at me with curiosity. I knelt down and began to unlace his breeches. 

“Aurélie.” He moaned, while stroking my hair. When his taut phallus sprang free, I looked up at him and felt the corner of my mouth twitch ever so slightly at the thought of performing the languisement for him. 

I stroked his velvety skin with my hand then took him into my mouth as slowly as possible, causing him to moan louder.

I used all of my art to please him, and it felt wonderful. He tangled his hand in my hair just as he climaxed and let out an enormous sigh. He pulled me to my feet and led me to his bedchamber.

“I would have all of you before this night is ended, my ever-blooming Dahlia.” He unlaced my dress and helped me step out of it until I was naked but for his necklace. 

With an ease that belied his slender frame, he carefully lifted me onto the bed. I watched as he disrobed, and reached out my arms for him to join me in the bed.

He caressed and kissed my breasts as if he had never seen them before, using his tongue to harden my nipples until I could hardly bear it. I wanted him inside me, and he knew it. 

“Ah, not yet, my Dahlia. I have more yet to explore.” He trailed his fingertips along my body starting at the hollow of my throat, down between my breasts, across my stomach, and down to the cleft between my legs. He parted me effortlessly, because I was eager to receive him, and I sighed with relief and anticipation as his fingers entered me. He brought me near to climax but then stopped without giving me release.

“Oh, you are cruel my lord to deny me so.” I said, smiling. “Now, François. I need you, all of you.”

“As my lady commands.” He positioned himself above me, nudging me with his phallus, until my hips rose of their own accord, trying to get him inside me sooner. He simultaneously thrust into me and suckled on my earlobe, a sensation he knew I would enjoy. 

As he thrust faster and our bodies matched rhythms, his eyes fluttered and rolled back into his head. I suddenly wrapped my legs around him to allow him deeper inside me and he made a guttural, almost primal sound. It pleased me to know that I evoked such a response. He was mine, and I was good at knowing what he liked. 

The evening passed too quickly, and yet I felt we had spent more than one night together. No part of my flesh went unkissed. No desire was left unsatisfied. We paid homage to Naamah many times before the sun rose. 

As the drowsy morning light began to seep in through the bedchamber curtains, the light refracted off of the diamond in my new necklace and scattered along the walls. François and I had not yet slept, but remained slack in each other’s arms. Still toying with each other’s hair, stopping briefly to bestow small kisses. It was only then that I thought of Reynard. Was I more horrified that it had taken me this long to think of him, or that I was thinking of him with sweat still drying on my skin from the exertions of another man? I hardly knew.


	7. Chapter 7

“I disagree.” The Dowayne frowned. “Dahlia should not assume the mantle of royalty, regardless of the intent.” I had been invited to a tea-time discussion of this year’s Midwinter Masque. Preparations begin months in advance and the theme needed to be chosen before we could begin designing the decorations and costumes.

“It is a costume, as everyone well knows.” Countered the Second. The theme under debate was the court of Jebe-Barkal. In an homage to Comtess Phedre Delaunay’s travels there and her alliance with Queen Zanadakhete, Dahlia house would dress in Meneketan fashion. This didn’t sit well with everyone.

“Yes, and no costume was ever usurped to portray political intentions…” The Dowayne replied with sarcasm.

“Aurélie, what do you think?” Suddenly several pairs of eyes were on me, expecting an response. I still wasn’t used to this kind of inclusion in matters of importance.

“Well…” I hesitated. _Please let this not sound like nonsense_ , I thought. “What if we reenacted the tribute gift Queen Zanadakhete sent to her majesty Queen Ysandre? The Dahlia procession could present a tribute gift of sorts acknowledging Cereus’ status as the first House.”

The silence that followed dragged on for what seemed like minutes.

“Well, I can’t imagine what we’d put in the tribute chest.” The Dowayne’s tone of voice was acerbic, but she didn’t say no. The guest from Eglantine who had been contracted to help us smiled warmly at me and addressed the Dowayne’s concern.

“Leave the design to the designers. If this is your wish, we’ll not disappoint.”

“Very well.” The Second of the House beamed with pride as if he had suggested it himself. His faith in me was not misplaced, and he was clearly pleased. He said as much when we had left the tea room.

“Aurélie you have a diplomat’s grace in solving problems. Oh, Elua! I’m giving her ideas. Please don’t leave us for politics.”

“You should have no concern on that account.” I laughed. “Why turn to politics when I can be a member of Dahlia House. We’ve enough dramatic discussions for three countries!”

 

Later that evening I returned to my letter writing that I had been neglecting in all the bustle of training and planning. A few letters to family in rural areas outside the City of Elua, a few to former Dahlia adepts whose marques were bought by other Houses but we’ve kept in touch over the years, and finally, to Reynard. 

 

_My Dreamer,_

_With our assignation quickly approaching, my thoughts race. What, I wonder, will you expect of me? Shall I dazzle you with all my art? Shall I ask that you use yours? How forward of me to put these thoughts to pen, and yet I cannot seem to stop them. How fares your salon? Do you enjoy being master of your own house? Do you have a favorite patron?_

_Until next we meet,_

_Your waking dream_

 

Oh, what would my Second think to read these words? And yet my desire outweighed my guilt at such a thought. After I had addressed and sealed the letter, I found a courier to take it to his salon. On my way back to my quarters, I heard my name.

“Aurélie, my dear, how fortunate to run into you. I have a special assignation for you.” The aged Dowayne sounded a bit out of breath as she approached me. I knelt abeyante immediately.  
“My child, the Dowayne of Valerian House has received a request which he thinks would better fit our canon.” My heart began to race. When was the last time a patron required my submission? The chance to play the game of wills was thrilling.

“There is an Akkadian prince coming to attend the natality festival of the Dauphin next week. He wishes an escort to the festivities, and somewhat besides. The contract would be for the entire night. I think you would be best suited for this assignation. May I submit your name?”

“Of course, madame. You flatter me.” I whispered, barely audibly.

“Good. I thought so.” She patted me on the head. “What, may I tell the Dowayne, is your signale? He’ll draft up the contract immediately."

“Dreamer.”


End file.
